Lonely
by Ravenpan
Summary: Trunks spends a lot of time at work... how does it effect the one left home? (complete?)
1. Lonely

Just a short ficlet, a one-shot. Stream of consciousness thoughts.

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LONELY  
By Raven Pan

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So alone, anymore. So alone. It's a wonder I even have a vocabulary anymore. A wonder I haven't forgotten how to speak. Simple words, nonsense words... mostly only sounds pass through my lips, and even then only rarely.  
  
It's a wonder my vocabulary hasn't disappeared on me. If it weren't for writing, perhaps it would have.  
  
I don't want to be alone. It hurts. He's always gone, always at work. And I am left home. Alone.  
  
Always alone.  
  
I don't want to deny him. And evenings are even less compatable than the daylight hours are. If I'm not gone, he's gone... and the rare nights we have together are often cut off by one thing or another.  
  
Sometimes he doesn't come home until I'm already abed.  
  
He's always gone before I wake, every morning - and he goes to bed long before I do at night.  
  
I might get three hours from him, but undivided attention is almost an impossible commodity.  
  
Unless I try to force him to pay attention to me, which rarely ends well.  
  
I'm lonely.  
  
The silence... sometimes I feel that it's deafening, I can hear so much, and yet there's nothing.  
  
Silence.  
  
A blank page.  
  
And myself.  
  
My thoughts... pour out like so much nonsense, it's pathetic. Maybe that's why... why I'm alone.  
  
He says he loves me, and I know he believes he does. And I love him. And there are times when I know we're connecting... but they're so few, so far between.  
  
It's almost enough to make me want to take off my mask for a little while, and cry like the hurt child I feel I am inside.  
  
But I can't do that... because then I'll never stop, an ocean will form and I'll drown in my own tears, my own sorrow.  
  
Maybe that's what they mean by drowning in your own sorrow.  
  
He has no idea either, I mean, he's totally clueless. He thinks there's nothing wrong, he has no idea how it tears into my heart each and every time he says he's going to be late. That there's something he needs to do.  
  
I bet he has no idea how much it hurts me, or how many of my childish smiles, laughs, or antics, are an act. An attempt to show nothing bothers me, all is right with the world. I'm still the innocent person I was when we fell in love with eachother so long ago.  
  
Aren't I?  
  
Lonely.  
  
I'm tired of being lonely. The act is begining to wear thin, and I find myself slipping occasionally, anymore. I don't want to, but it happens. I need to work harder to keep it intact.  
  
He can't know.  
  
I don't want him to know how much he hurts me, because to hurt me is like the unforgivable sin to him.  
  
So, maybe, after all - it's not his fault. It's mine.  
  
Sue me for wanting perfection.  
  
Or a movie.  
  
Or a dinner.  
  
Or... even just takeout.  
  
Sue me for just wanting his arms around me after a long day, where I've been constantly jumping between grief, fear, emptiness...  
  
Yeah, there's a lot of that. Emptiness.  
  
Maybe that's why I feel so lonely? Because there's nothing within, to keep me company?  
  
Or maybe... I've been deceiving everyone else for so long, I've begun to deceive myself.  
  
Maybe I don't know what I want anymore. What I need. What I feel.  
  
Who I am.  
  
I'm nothing... nobody. A shoulder to cry on, hands that make meals.  
  
Nothing more.  
  
Just... Lonely.  
  
God, I sound so pathetic - like one of those moaning songs all the teenagers listen to while lamenting their existance.  
  
Ever been in a room full of people, of smiles. People you know and who know you, and you love, and suppose that they love you? Ever been in a room full of people... and be completely, ineffably alone?  
  
So alone you feel as though there's a wall built up around you, that even if you wanted them to, nobody could break through.  
  
Walls are nice. They're like masks, they protect other people from who you really are.  
  
Which is a good thing, when the wall shows happiness, joy, bouncy antics and energy to spare.  
  
It's a good wall, because there's nothing behind it but tears.  
  
I will not shed those tears. Tears have a lot of power. They can erode those walls - and let people see just what an ugly person you really are. Filled with hate, sorrow, and nothingness. It is a protective measure, building walls.  
  
Protective of them, because you never want to hurt them.  
  
So you stay alone.   
  
Like me. But even if we wanted to, we could never be alone together - because... I am you, and you are me.  
  
There is no we.  
  
Only myself. Only me.  
  
Lonely.

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_"I'm home!"_  
  
_"I'm in the study, I'll start supper in a moment!"_  
  
_"Nah, don't worry about it - I've got another meeting for Capsule Corp in twenty minutes, I just came to quick drop off some files - I'll see you tonight - Okay?!"_  
  
_"No problem!"_  
  
_ There are footsteps._  
  
_The door closes._  
  
_And there are tears._

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Owari  
The End  
Please Review.

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	2. Frightened

  
A/N: Thank you for your reviews. I do not know if there will be more chapters or no - they come as they come. If you wish a response to your review, please leave an email or email me -- as I don't know if there will be more chapters, there will be no Reviewer Corners in this Fic.  
  
Lonely  
-Chapter Two-   
  
I don't get it. What did I do wrong? Why are you so angry with me for not being able to read your mind? For not knowing what you were thinking? For not knowing that my words seemed different than they were?   
  
I need you, you know that? You're probably one of the most important people in my life - one of the few who can push me to tears. I cry for you, you know. I cry when you're upset, or when your words cut me.   
  
A knife hurts less.   
  
I cry when I think about losing you, your friendship - your familiar presence at my side when I need....   
  
I admit it, I'm a needy person. I'm co-dependent even, I guess. I can't be alone.   
  
Being alone terrifies me. You know that. You all do, all you who are close to me - know nearly all my secrets.   
  
Yet there are still secrets, things none but myself knows. I will not even write them here and now.   
  
A smiling face, a quick laugh - a stupid remark... is this all I am? There's more to me than that, you know. More. There isn't all laughter. There isn't all smiles.   
  
You ever take apart an expensive looking armoire... only to find it's really made out of plywood? Yeah. Plywood, with a thin veneer of something expensive looking, like mahogony.   
  
I feel like my life is all a veneer. Plywood is my core, and plywood itself is so multi-faceted - nobody could ever really know everything.   
  
It's easy to keep secrets when you've built yourself up that way. I keep hoping someone will look beneath the smiles and laughter - the cocksure bravery. That someone will see me.   
  
There are few who nearly have. They know. You know.   
  
And still, you toss the knife as though this armoire is there simply for target practice.   
  
How many more tosses before the veneer shatters, and the piece is worthless, ready to be thrown away like the nothing that it really is.   
  
Nevermind that the drawers are sturdy and well-made, quite able to keep the secrets that belong to others. Quite able to hold anything and everything placed within it, closing it within itself to hold for safe keeping until it is needed once more.   
  
Nevermind that the closet to the side has faithfully held castoffs, until such things are remembered as the treasures they are - and redeemed. Taken away.   
  
It hurts. I can't stop crying. I trusted you, and stupidly still trust.   
  
But I'm alone. I'm terrified and alone - and though I'm so tired I can barely see my pen moving across this page, the thought of turning out the light and going to bed is far worse than any thought else, but one.   
  
Don't leave forever. I'd die. I can't be alone. Please, won't you stop leaving me alone?   
  
I'm so scared, why don't you know how frightened I am? Why don't you know how much I need you? Why can't you look past this facade of strength and laughter and see the broken person inside - sobbing like tomorrow is only a dream... a nightmare.   
  
I'm terrified. And I'm alone.   
  
I need.   
  
Why can't I stop crying? I'm trying so hard to glue the veneer back into place. Somehow reinforce it against it all. But I can't.   
  
I'm broken. I'm terrified, and I'm broken.   
  
I don't want to be alone. I can't be alone. I would rather cut off my hand, pluck out my eye, and go completely deaf as my tongue is ripped out - than to remain alone.   
  
I'm so scared.   
  
If I lied for you... if I said what you wanted to hear - would you promise not to leave me alone? If I did everything you asked, said everything you wanted me to say - and never spoke unless it was your wish... would you stay?   
  
Would you stop being angry with me... if I became the reflection of your wishes, your demands?   
  
I know I'm not good enough - I was stupid to ever think that. You care for me only because of what you see....   
  
If you knew what lay beneath.... If you knew how weak I am....   
  
Would you be lost to me forever?  
  
()()()  
Please Review.  



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